In A World Colored Purple
by gumibearcarnage4652
Summary: I can't explain it, but it deals with just about everything, mainly homosexuality. Main characters include Chris, a new character, Marco, Dylan, Ellie, Paige, Spinner, Jimmy, Hazel, and just about everyone else. Please read and review.
1. Prologue: A Learning Experience

Please note that I don't own anything Degrassi-related.

Please also note that this story will start off very slow, and doesn't begin with any reference to Degrassi whatsoever. However, this isn't a normal fanfic. This is a full-blown story, and if you decide that you would rather keep your thoughts strictly Degrassi-related, then by all means. If you do read, please review. Reviews always inspire me to write more, good or bad, because I plan on becoming a writer, and if you tell me what I do wrong, it is just as good as telling me what I've accomplished.

Thank you, and please give this a chance. Like I said, it begins slow, but it definitely picks up. As far as ratings go, they're all over the place. Check above, I'll have it in bold so you can choose to read or not.

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**Prologue**

People thrive upon feelings. Their own feelings, other people's feelings, whatever. Souls become lost without feelings to guide them. And everyone has felt one thing before. The feeling of being a misfit, or being different and out of place. Would your world change if this became a monthly, weekly, or even daily feeling for you? Can you understand what it's like to be tagged as strange or different, helplessly trying to climb the wall of success, only to have the normal people pull you down? Do you know what it's like to live a lie, until you finally can't take the pain welling inside of you, that you need to, are obligated to, explode the secret inside of you, flooding your world with everything you fought so hard to keep back? Do you know what it's like...to be gay?

Gay. There are so many words for it. Preppy girls call us awesome, jocks call us fags, scientists call us homosexuals, and society calls us misguided. But to know what the term gay is, you have to walk in a pair of a gay man's or woman's fabulous one-hundred dollar pair of shoes. Some of us couldn't handle it, but some of us could come out on top. But the essence of being gay isn't the tight clothes, the banging club scenes, the casual sex, the feathered boas, and the toy dogs. It's...well, only a little bit more than that.

Most people think that gays are always happy, flamboyant little creatures who only exist in fairy tales and would NEVER come to my house to finally get rid of that avocado-colored trim in the living room and their priceless lawn flamingo Herman, but the gay community has much more to offer than their god-given fabulocity. Even the most prideful of gays used to upset and angry they were born this way. No one can relate to the pain and suffering that goes along with the rainbow smiles we show so boldly.

Some people say, what makes gays such a special minority? What about black people and Asian people? Well, I have news for them. If you haven't noticed, more white people are turning into black people! My point is, the other minorities don't understand either. You will probably be harassed just as much by a white man as a black man...if not more. The thing with gays is...even the other minorities just don't understand.

This is why I'm here. Through the wonderful help of Degrassi, I can create my own story, one of the true life of a gay teen, trying to be accepted, with, of course, wonderful Degrassi characters and bold Degrassi humor. The story of a gay teen, Chris, who just moved from New York to Canada, and will be attending Degrassi as a 10th grader. This isn't fiction, it's fact, taken to a whole new level. After reading the humor, pain, angst, power, happiness, and sadness that you absorb into your brain, from my typing, from my words, from my story, go out there, get yourself a pair of those fabulous shoes and pat yourself on the back. You may finally understand.

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	2. Chapter One

Again, I own nothing Degrassi...I'm working on that...lol

Anyway, here's the first chapter, which is a little bit racy, including:

swearing

references to transexuals

grotesque descriptions

Please, read and review. Again, hardly any Degrassi, but I have to start from somewhere, don't I? This is my first attempt at a chapter book EVER. Please, PLEASE tell me how I am doing.

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**CHAPTER ONE**

Taxis were so abundant in New York that Chris was afraid he would have to be weaned onto an SUV or trolley or something when he got to Canada. I mean, were there even any malls? Did people wrestle beavers for fun there, or make salt water taffy? Did they wear no deodorant, but instead, don repulsive hunting gear? On the plane ride there, he just kept thinking about how third-worldish Canada sounded.

"What do you mean they don't have a Dolce and Gabanna? Where the fuck am I going anyway Mom, Giligan's Island?"

"What's a supermarket? Is that like a mall? Ewww...you mean they keep the meat in THERE!"

"Moose? They have animals running wild there? Mom, If I'm going to live in a zoo, you could have just told me..."

He couldn't stop thinking about how different it was going to be. He wasn't really ready, and he was pretty scared. What if people didn't like him? Well, then again, it'd be just like back at home. Being queer and all...that's what he had to deal with, people not accepting him. It was almost a routine. He wondered how much people in Canada would hate him for being gay. But it didn't matter. He wasn't going to deal with it this time. He was starting over, and nobody had to know, right?

The plane ride was getting tiring, so he whipped out some staff paper that he had already scribbled on. He looked at the music in disgust. How boring...he didn't write this. Well, I mean, he did, but he didn't want anyone to know that he did. He crumpled it up, and stuffed it in his mouth, only to spit it back out from the potent taste of lead and failure. He began composing a piano piece, one depicting how mad he was at his father for doing this to him.

His dad...the whole reason he was even on this plane ride to Canada. His dad divorced his mom after accusing him of turning his only son into a faggot. He remembered the terrible days in the courtroom, and the judge being appalled at the idea of me being the reason for their divorce. He remembered countless nights of crying himself to sleep, countless nights of yelling, countless nights of torture...It was unbearable, but the fact he was never going to see him again, lifted his spirits. He snickered mischievously at the disgusting chord he had created. This one's for you dad, he thought, this one's finally for you.

His mother, however, will not be joining him on his trip to Canada. She has to stay back for unknown reasons. Yeah right, he thought...he knew all about her affair with the bell boy...who was so disgusting, Chris actually watched him eat his own belly button lint. So his mother fell in love with a fugly bellboy...chord number two. Chris laughed. How easy it was to write music when you were pissed at the idiots who decided to hatch you from their stupid zygote, their stupid egg, their stupid womb, their stupid love, their stupid...

And before he knew it, his piece was finished. He lied his pen down on the paper and sighed with approval. He stuffed the sheet back into his bag and began to eat his meal, which was not even close to being by his standards. The salmon still had scales, the bun was frozen, the orange juice had pulp. Hell, even the parsley was yellow. After witnessing such atrocious food, he lost his appetite, and began to stare out the window, still dreaming about this shithole he was about to enter.

Which reminded him...he needed to pick up some condoms when he got there.

When he got off the plane, he immediately began to search for people he would recognize. Anyone that reminded him of anyone back home. He looked around with disdain: his uncle was nowhere to be seen. He sighed a mighty sigh, looking into the eyes of the many people around him. Just great, he thought, I'm alone in Canada...I hope I don't get eaten by a polar bear...

His uncle was the only person who understood him. Mostly because he was gay also, and lived in a nice little house in Toronto. Chris was coming to live with him, but he was a bit apprehensive about the idea. He's never really been introduced to the gay community, and he doesn't really know what it's like. Of course, he'd love to know, but he can't help but worry that he'll get butt-raped at a cocktail party from two transsexuals...he smirked at this though, and questioned why it even crossed his mind. His uncle would never let him go to a cocktail party...

Instead of waiting for his uncle, he decided a mint mocha sounded more pleasing, so he walked over to Starbucks to pick one up with the cash he still had left. He looked in his wallet and sighed. Only eight hundred dollars left? He rolled his eyes and grabbed the mocha, and began to sip it casually near an obviously fake tree with a beautifully ornamented, but also fake, planter.

An extremely beautiful girl walked up to him and he smiled at her. She smiled back, eyeing him up. He looked at her quizzically. She came over and shook his hand.

"Hi, my name's Brianna."

Somewhat shocked, he returned the greeting,

"I'm Chris."

She giggled, "So Chris, where are you from?"

"New York."

She ogled at him for a moment, "No way! Man, it must feel like winter to you here then!"

He frowned at her, and peered out the window to see snow falling.

"You mean it isn't winter?"

She shook her head, "Nope, it's just turning into summer."

His jaw dropped, "Please tell me this isn't Toronto."

She giggled more girlishly then ever, "No, you're a little bit north from there. It's about 60 degrees and sunny down there."

It was Chris's turn to giggle, "I got myself a genuine weather person here."

She returned with a warm, natural laugh, "Well, I do want to be an anchorperson eventually."

"It would suit you well."

"You think?"

He nodded. "Absolutely. Just get yourself one hot leisure suit, and you can fuck your way to the top."

She laughed openly this time, but then frantically looked at her watch.

"I'm really sorry, but I have a plane to catch. I'm going to France to visit my grandmother."

"Alright, well, nice to meet you."

"Bonsoir!"

He scratched his head. Bonsoir? What the hell does that mean? He went over to pick up his baggage, only to discover that his flute was almost entirely dismembered on the carrying belt. He could feel the anger well inside of him, and he ran up to the closest pimply little handler and held up his flute, with half of it hanging out of the case.

"Sir, are you in charge of baggage around here?"

The man turned around, and Chris almost dropped his flute in shock. He was absolutely disgusting. His hair looked like it had never been washed, and must've had at least two different species of animal living in it. His face looked like an oilmine, full of blemishes and zits, few of which had been popped, roughly a few seconds ago, and were seeping a hideous green pus. His teeth were a goldenrod color, with an odd blackish color surrounding them. Chris immediately recognized it as chewing tobacco, his father used to chew it all the time. Repulsed, Chris backed away a few steps.

"Heh, yup that's me." Said the hideous man, picking the tobacco from his teeth with gray, un-groomed fingernails.

"First of all, did you TOUCH this flute?" Chris asked, holding the flute away, in fear of perhaps getting ebola.

"Yup. I took care of it."

Chris let out a moan of disgust, and pulled out a Clorox wipe, and immediately began to scrub the case and the flute itself off from any possible germy residue left from the disgusting man. The man looked genuinely worried.

"Is something wrong sir?"

"Besides the fact that you but your filthy hands on my flute?" he snarled, "Yes, you massacred it! Look!" He held up the flute, showing the man that it was obviously dismantled by something...The man gave a short and abrupt laugh.

"Haha, yeah, sorry about that..."

Chris looked at the man incredulously, "Sorry about that? What do you mean, sorry! You're going to have to pay for this."

"Sir, calm down, just hand it to me, and I'll get everything fixed."

Chris held it out of the man's grasp, "Haha, as if! This is MINE! You can't touch it!"

The man sighed, and Chris could smell his putrid breath. Chris's eyes began to water.

"Look, the best I can do is give you fifty bucks for repairs."

Chris scoffed, "Fifty? I might as well just buy a new one at that rate!"

The man rolled his eyes, "Sounds like a plan." He picked up his clipboard and walked away, leaving Chris positively fuming. Why the hell was he stuck here? Why couldn't he just live with a friend in New York? He had to come here...

About twenty five minutes later, Chris found his uncle. His uncle was a very attractive man, with medium brown, flowing hair that always looked perfect. His eyes were a deep jade, and he had a strong jaw and a presence about him that made you just wanna hug him, like a teddy bear. His sense of style was so good, it made him wonder on how he was possibly related to his dad. He ran up and gave him a huge bear hug, and immediately started to apologize.

"I can't believe I totally forgot you were coming today! God, I am SO sorry!" he began to fuss over Chris's hair and clothes, as if he was covered in dust. He quickly brushed him off.

"It's cool. It's great to see you again Uncle Morgan."

Uncle Morgan gave a broad grin, "I always knew you were one of us!" He grabbed me for another tight embrace. Chris rolled his eyes and pushed him off of him.

"Excuse me?'

Uncle Morgan's eyes sparkled, "Ya know, I knew you were queer..."

"Shhhhhh!"

Uncle Morgan gave him a quizzical look, "What's wrong?" Chris tapped his foot impatiently, "I'm starting a new life, and I don't want anyone to know I'm gay, got it?"

Uncle Morgan looked taken aback, "Wait, why not? You're not ashamed of yourself are you?" Chris said nothing. Of course he was ashamed. Wasn't every gay man? He surely couldn't be the only one who wished and prayed everyday to be straight. Would he ask Uncle Morgan? No, he couldn't possibly...

Chris's silence answered Morgan's question for him, "I see. If I can't change your mind, then we'll need to get you home." Morgan looked down at his trashed flute case, "What happened to your little buddy?"

Chris was appalled at the question for a second, and then he realized he was talking about his flute. He laughed inside his head, and held the flute up to Morgan, "Some guy broke it when taking it off the plane." Morgan scratched his head, "Yeah, they're not very good with that here...we'll get it fixed, you'll be able to play in band when you go to school in a few days."

Chris smiled sheepishly, but in truth, he completely forgot about school. He was going to be attending Degrassi Community School. Coming from private school, this was an extreme step down, and you can bet he wasn't at all thrilled about this. He was also worried about what people in band might think if he played flute. He didn't want even a rumor to get out that he was gay.

"Um, Uncle Morgan, I'm not taking band."

Morgan looked shocked, "But, you love music! How can you not take band?" Chris looked at his feet.

"I wanted to take Government instead. Is that alright? I mean, I'll still study flute privately. But...I'd just rather be in government."

Morgan observed him for a moment, as if he could sense what was wrong with him. But Morgan couldn't sense anything, and he wasn't going to bother asking.

"That's fine with me. I'll have your schedule switched when we get home. We should head out though, okay?"

Chris looked off out through the gigantic airport window to see the lush greenery below. Something he never knew even existed. This was something completely new to him. There were no skyscrapers, no huge mansions...just...well...something. He would have to wait to define it himself. This thing called Canada, was part of his life now. Morgan came over and put his arm around him,

"It's alright. You know what they say. You can take the girl out of New York, but you can never take the New York out of the girl."

Chris gave him a questioning look, "So I'm a girl now?" Morgan laughed wholeheartedly. "Babe, you really don't know anything do you? Come on let's go home."

And with that, Chris left his thoughts of New York at the airport. Sure it was hard to let go, but he could start over fresh. Uncle Morgan was right, you can't take the New York out of the girl, he thought. Although he wasn't so sure he liked the girl part. He couldn't help but wonder what other weird things he'll be called...not like it mattered. All he knew now, is that Canada was his new home, and he planned to make the best of it.

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R&R of course! 


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